


Repercussions

by MisteryMaiden



Series: And It All Comes Crashing Down [3]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: (Michael gives it to him), Confused Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), Gen, God's A+ Parenting (Lucifer TV), Guilty Chloe Decker, Hurt Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), Hurt/Comfort, Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV) Needs A Hug, Post-Devil Face Reveal to Chloe Decker, Shit is going down, angry god
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-03-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:14:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23063026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MisteryMaiden/pseuds/MisteryMaiden
Summary: Lucifer heals, Kinley is punished, and God ponders his next step in regards to humanity and his children.
Series: And It All Comes Crashing Down [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1654117
Comments: 31
Kudos: 599





	Repercussions

**Author's Note:**

> IMPORTANT:  
> Right, so the timeline that I've decided for these fics is not a complete match up with cannon, obviously. I did a lot of thinking, and I've decided that this takes place in 2019. Which, considering that's when season 4 released, would make sense, right?  
> Ha.  
> The season 3 finale happened in May 2018. After Lucifer was picked up by Netflix, we got season 4 May 2019. I've decided to use that gap to my advantage because I've already state that Trixie is 11 in this fic. Timeline is as follows:
> 
> Pierce dies: May 27th, 2019  
> Chloe returns from Rome: June 29th, 2019  
> *Insert events of the show up until Betrayal*  
> -Betrayal-  
> Chloe's date with Lucifer: July 17th, 2019  
> Maze and Amenadiel track down Lucifer: Early morning July 18th, 2019  
> -Recovery-  
> Michael arrives on Earth: July 31st, 2019  
> Lucifer wakes up: August 4th, 2019
> 
> I'm well aware that this is absolutely nothing like the cannon timeline but this is fanfiction so you really should have expected that already. Not every detail is going to line up perfectly with the events of the show for the same reasons. I just thought I should give you a vague idea of when this is all taking place since the date does come up later in the chapter. It'll also probably be relevant information going forward in the series as well.
> 
> All right then, on with the story!

The first thing that William Kinley saw when he awoke was a blinding light.

Blinking in an attempt to clear his sight, William tried to remember what he had been doing before he’d lost consciousness. He’d been in Los Angeles, California. What had he been doing there…?

With a start, William remembered what he’d been doing. He had the Devil at his mercy, bound in the magic that he had found hidden deep within the Vatican archives as he looked desperately for some way to send the Devil back to Hell. He’d been trying to get approval from the Pope but had gotten nowhere in his past attempts.

After he’d uncovered the ritual, he had felt vindicated. At first, he had thought to bring his discovery to the Pope, until he remembered the ending of their last conversation.

_“I will hear no more of this, Father Kinley. You are to leave Los Angeles and the delusional Lucifer Morningstar alone!”_

Even with the picture that had been sent by one Reese Getty, the Pope had refused action. Stating that, should it be real, then they needed more proof to act than a picture taken by a jealous ex-husband.

William sneered at that still, a play to appeal to the masses instead of answering the real threat that walked amongst them. No, William had decided to act without permission. Once the Beast had been returned to Hell along with the demon that it had risen alongside itself, William would return to the Vatican as a hero amongst humanity.

Then Chloe Decker, the final piece of the puzzle that had been missing from the ritual, had been sighted in Rome. William knew the moment word reached him that it was time to act. With the relevant evidence gathered and a plan in mind, William had approached the woman. While her daughter remained occupied, William had been able to convince Decker of his plan as he showed her his evidence.

All he needs, he’d told her, was someone to slip the _sedative_ to the Beast while it was unaware.

Of course, it wasn’t really a sedative. No, that would have been too risky and could have failed. Instead, he’d crafted a poison of his own making from viper venom, to symbolize the snake, belladonna for deception, and cyanide for the Virgin Birth. William thought it was quite clever of him. Cyanide was made from Almonds, after all.

Delivered by the hand of Chloe Decker, who had turned out to be a Miracle on Earth, gave it just that much more power. William had been confident that even Satan would be felled by such a blend, if only for a while.

It had worked as well. Decker had come through and, with the help of the local priests who agreed to help, William had been able to carry the Beast uncontested to the place of ritual. Once there, he had used a true sedative to keep it unconscious long enough to situate it into the bond that had been prepared. That done, William had started the chant.

It was a long process that was taxing to carry out, but it had been a necessary step. William had to be sure that a simple exorcism would be unable to send Satan back to Hell. While he would feel no guilt at completing the ritual he had uncovered, it was ideal to leave it unless it couldn’t be helped. It would be hard to explain to the authorities that might come across them, should he have to carry it out. He doubted that those who allowed themselves to _work_ with Beelzebub himself would be able to comprehend the service he was providing them. It was only a matter of time before Satan grew bored and turned on them all. William had considered waiting for that moment before deciding it was best to avoid it entirely.

While it would be satisfying to be proven right beyond a doubt, the deaths that the Beast would bring down would sully his conscience. A devout follower of God did not seek recognition, only the safety of their fellow men. William had been a devout follower for too long to fall into the trap of pride.

It had been for naught as Satan had arrived on Earth in the vessel granted to it by the Heavenly Father when it had masqueraded as an angel. The white wings, no doubt a trick to attempt to save itself, had made him certain of that. That the Beast had confirmed it for him had only been a bonus. Sending away his fellow priests, William had started the second step of the ritual.

Blood of a Miracle, granted willingly with a symbol that allowed him to connect the power of the blood-filled danger to that of the circle, protecting him from its’ effects as he worked. As long as he wore the symbol ( _a bullet on a necklace, of all things_ ) the power of the circle would not destroy or repel him.

He’d just finished carving the last of the symbols on Satan’s form when he’d been attacked and the world had gone black. He vaguely remembered waking before losing consciousness once more.

What had happened? Surely the Demon hadn’t been able to find them so quickly! It wouldn’t know to look for William and the circle should have kept Satan from being felt.

“William Kinley,” a voice boomed around him. William fought against the light that was blocking his vision and, finally, a room came into view.

Not just any room, either. This room was built with glowing Silver Stones that radiated more power than Kinley had ever felt in his life. Around him were dozens of being that could have only been angels. Wings of all colors swayed in the stillness, though there was no breeze to move them. Muscles, perhaps. Some emitted colored light while other’s seemed to exude a grayness that had no description. It was not darkness, not truly, though neither was it a form of light.

It was the figure in the center the caught his attention the most. Dark hair with glowing blue eyes, larger than any human could ever be and dressed in the finest of clothing. A black dress shirt that twinkled with _stars_ and black slacks that lead down to feet covered by dress shoes. The resemblance to the Beast nearly had William repulsed, however, he pushed through it. There were many angels that surrounded him who shared similar features, though the varying skin colors confused him for a time. Perhaps there had been some truth to the unimportance of race in the eyes of God.

That was when he noticed why the set up seemed so familiar: William was positioned in the center of a Court, with God Himself sitting before him.

William tried to fall to his knees in worship and found he could not move anything other than his neck. He tried to speak and found he had no voice. All he was granted was his ability to hear and to see. He was to be a silent witness in whatever it was that the Lord had planned for him.

“Hear Me, My children,” the Lord spoke with such formality that William knew that this was a ritual. “In this Court, placed within the Center of the Silver City, we have gathered to Witness the fate of this mortal, William Kinley. So say I.”

“So sayeth the Lord,” the angel answered. William wondered if he was imagining the rage that echoed in their voices. Surely, he had done nothing to earn such a reaction! Yes, it was likely only in his head, William assured himself.

He had done nothing wrong, after all.

The Lord looked to him, then. Blue eyes blazed with a glow that spoke of age past his imagination and power he could not even _think_ to comprehend. This being who had created the universe and all within it could destroy him with nothing but a flick of the wrist. William felt himself shake in fear.

This seemed to satisfy something in those eyes as the glow dimmed until it was only eyes William was looking at.

“William Kinley, you stand here before Me to answer for the Crimes committed against My son, the Lightbringer.” The Lord’s voice echoed. “What say you, mortal?”

With that, William’s voice was his own. Instead of the relief, he should have felt, William was beginning to feel fear. What crimes had he committed? “What are these crime, My Lord? I beg for forgiveness. Never would I have acted against one of your children, should I have only known.”

That was the truth, he knew. It was not, however, the right answer. Just like that, his voice was gone once more, and the once quiet angels were shouting in rage.

He, William Kinley, had trespassed against an Angel unknowingly and was to be punished. Try as he might, William could not recall encountering a single angel, let alone harming one. As a devout believer, he was sure he would have noticed if he had been in contact with an angel.

Perhaps one of the souls he had freed from possession had not been a demon at all, but an angel sent to bring a message to humanity. If that was so that William would accept whatever punishment the Lord felt he deserved.

Yes, it must be that.

What else could it possibly be?

“Silence yourselves, My Children.” The Lord commanded. At once, silence prevailed in the room as if it had never been broken. Blue eyes focused back on William, this time the gaze had malice within. “Do you not remember your own deeds, _mortal_? Perhaps it would pay to jog your memory.”

A glow filled the room and William felt his world crumble.

Strung up in chains, bound by the circle, and expertly carved from flesh to false wings, was the Beast. Limp, unmoving just as William remembered seeing it last.

He recoiled, or at least attempted to, in shock.

Surely this was a mistake!

Satan was no angel!

The silence of the room had gained an aura of horror. A beat and cries of furious outrage and sobs echoed around William, who stood unable to move or speak. The image did not vanish.

This was not a mistake.

Had he been wrong? Had it not been Satan at all who he had captured, but an angel that been left as a decoy?

“I See that you have not yet come to the right conclusion.” The Lord’s voice held the wrath that had once ordered the death of every firstborn child in Egypt. That had ordered the plagues to reign down on humanity. “Behold, My Lightbringer, Samael the Lucifer. The Archangel that, in your arrogance and mortal stupidity, nearly destroyed. Gaze at this image mortal, for if you fail to answer Me correctly again, I shall not be lenient.”

It-it couldn’t be true. This couldn’t be happening! The Devil was a monster, a deceiver, a threat to humanity! It could not be an archangel!

But that title…

Samael _the_ Lucifer.

Samael the Lightbringer.

Lucifer _Morningstar._

Lucifer _the_ Morningstar

_The Morning Star._

William looked up to see a glass ceiling. Directly above was a star that vastly dwarfed the Sun. What should have been a blinding beauty was dimmed and just barely visible. Burning but not shining the way William just _knew_ that it should be.

This was not a mistake.

What had he done?

William Kinley closed his eyes but did not pray.

There would be no Mercy here.

* * *

Gabriel had never wanted to kill a human more than she did at that moment. She had known, from the way Raphael had been hysterical and how Amenadiel had looked so terrified, that it had been bad. They had all known. Heard how Lucifer had been moments from being lost to them forever, seen how the Morning Star that his gift to them all had dimmed as the power disappeared, back to its creator. A desperate attempt to give Lucifer the strength to heal, to live.

Seeing it was different.

Their brother was dangling by chains, bloodied and lost to the world. In a circle that chipped at his very soul, trapped, with blood slowly leaving his body.

His _wings._

Even knowing that Lucifer was healed of those wounds now did not stop the fury that lit her in a way that had not been since she had smote the firstborn of Egypt. The fury only an Archangel like herself could call upon.

She was not the only one to feel the rage the image of their brother brought on. Many of her siblings were barely restraining themselves from launching at the human. The human who _didn’t think it had done anything wrong._

It was likely for the best that Father had informed them they would not be able to leave their seat once the Trial had started. She had thought that was an unnecessary precaution. She knew better, now. He had known that He would be forced to use this image, this memory. Had known what seeing it would cause.

Lucifer had not deserved this, she thought as anger turned to tears. Her brother was quick to anger and, yes, he had been wrong in the Rebellion, but he had not deserved this. How long had it been before he’d been allowed to fall unconscious? How long had he spent under the care of this _creature_ before his Demon had realized there was a problem?

_“We had just barely been in time,” Amenadiel had confided to her. “I thought he was dead, Gabby. I really thought he was dead.”_

She could understand why. If that was what Amenadiel had found, she couldn’t blame him. Lucifer, by all rights, should have been dead. If she wasn’t certain her Father would never have allowed it at all, she would have claimed His intervention.

Instead, Gabriel suspected it was Lucifer’s instinct to do the exact opposite of whatever the person trying to tell him what to do was saying. The preacher tells him to die and Lucifer lives just to spite the man.

_“He didn’t_ want _to live.”_ Her Father’s words echo in her head before she could force it down. Pretend that her brother hadn’t been broken entirely.

Gabriel couldn’t stop the sob this time. He’d loved her, the human who had betrayed him to this scum. Enough to kill Uriel, enough to kill a human that threatened her. To take hundreds of mortal bullets in his wings to protect her. To _die_ for her, twice, according to Azrael.

In return, she had gifted him this.

Chloe Decker was lucky their Father had forbidden His children from seeking vengeance on the Miracle woman. There was not a single angel within this room that would not have sought repayment for their brother’s pain with her blood. Not enough to kill, Father’s rule did not allow that.

There were worse things than death, however.

Azrael’s furious growl from beside her echoed her thoughts.

Chloe Decker might be destined for Hell, to replace their Mother in Her cage, but she had to die first. Death meant that she would be collect by Azrael.

Gabriel was certain her sister would not make the transition an easy one for her.

That thought allowed the archangel to calm herself once more.

This Trial was not over, yet.

Judgment had not been passed.

* * *

God knew every thought each of His children had as they saw, for the first time, what had been done to Lucifer.

He had been right to keep them bound within their seats. If He had not, William Kinley would not have survived their wrath, such as it was at this moment. As much as He could not fault them for wanting to dispense the mortal’s punishment themselves, however, the Lord knew that He could not allow this.

William Kinley, he had found, was not the first human to have attempted such a thing on His son. Having wanted all the facts before Judgment, God had cast his sight backward. What He had found had only increased His fury. Through Lucifer’s many trips to Earth, His son had endured hundreds of attempts to exorcise him. None were ever successful, as an Angel could not be ripped from their body by mortal magic, though all had caused excruciating pain. Afterward, when Amenadiel found and forced him back to Hell, Lucifer would not put much of a fight, too tired to protest. His Eldest had always thought that his brother had only been bored of Earth during those times and had never looked further.

The Lord wished He had, instead. If God had been paying attention to Amenadiel’s interactions with Lucifer, He could have easily discovered what had been happening. Instead, this had been allowed to happen for centuries, possibly longer if God wished to look farther back. He did not.

Now it had reached the point of no return, where His ignorance of the happenings between Humans and His Lightbringer had almost led to his destruction.

He would never be able to forgive Himself.

It was not just Lucifer at risk, despite what His Lightbringer had thought. God knew that, if Lucifer had thought about it, His son would have eventually remembered that.

Michael was his identical twin, with only their wings as their defining trait to tell the other apart by physical means.

What would have happened if a human had mistaken Michael for Lucifer and attempted to exorcise His Sword? Lucifer might have been willing to let it go, his Twin would not have been so forgiving. Not if he connected the attempt on himself to an attempt on Lucifer. The Lord wasn’t sure if even his rule preventing the unsanctioned death of humans would have saved any of those involved.

He _was_ sure that He wouldn’t have punished His son for it.

“William Kinley,” God spoke, wanting nothing more than for this to be over. To return to where His Twins slept soundly, away from this all. Instead, He would make sure that no mortal dared to try this again. Humanity had been allowed to forget the truth of the divine and exist away from His rulings. “Do you deny your charge?”

They had used that freedom to assault His child, for centuries. No more.

The mortal did not speak, merely shook its head. So, it could be taught. That would make this easier.

“Witness,” He called.

“Witnessed,” His children answered.

“William Kinley, you have found guilty. Judgment shall now be cast.” The Lord spoke and power filled the room. “Never Shall you be welcome within the Wall of the Silver City nor in the pits of Hell. Both are barred to you for all of existence! Neither shall I merely destroy you and be done with the matter, as that is far less than you deserve. Your punishment is to be a derivative to that which I bestowed on Cain, son of Adam and Eve. Never shall your soul be allowed eternity. You shall have no Earthly flesh, instead your soul shall be anchored to stone. You shall be unable to move, unable to speak, unable to rest, forced to watch humanity as an observer from now unto the Sun consumes the Earth, where your soul will be destroyed along with the Earthly plane. So say I!”

“So sayeth the Lord,” His children echoed. He could hear the satisfaction rippling through them. This was the harshest punishment ever given to a human and they were pleased that it was _this_ human who had received it.

Kinley would be destroyed, in the end, but he would _suffer_ first. Suffer in a way that not even Cain had.

With a wave of his hand, Kinley’s body turned to stone, with another, he was banished to await his placement on Earth. God would need to consider the proper place, that which would make the most impact. This punishment was to be dual purpose, after all.

William Kinley was to be a message.

Humanity needed to learn.

* * *

Lucifer was pretty sure that he’d somehow entered another universe when he hadn’t been looking.

Michael had been latched onto him since the moment that he’d first woken and had yet to show a single sign that he was going to let go anytime soon. Lucifer was pretty sure that he would have been annoyed by that, a few months ago.

He was, pathetically, grateful for it now.

That wasn’t what made him consider universes hopping, however. No matter how angry ( _not really, they’d never really managed to stay angry at each other_ ) either twin had ever gotten with the other, they’d always been clinging should one of them be hurt. And Lucifer, he acknowledged, had been a lot more than hurt.

_‘You nearly left me,’_ Michael whispered.

A lot more than just hurt; Lucifer winced. He couldn’t deny what Michael was saying either. There had been a few times that Lucifer had been so ready to just let everything fade away. He could still remember that place, the peace that he’d felt there had been so consuming that it had even stolen his name from him, at the end.

He wondered what would have happened to Michael, had their Dad not managed to pull him back.

_‘I would have followed,’_ Michael swore. _‘You don’t get to leave me. Not again.’_

There was nothing Lucifer could have said to that, so he ignored it and let Michael tighten his grip. Lucifer didn’t really like the idea of Michael following him into that place. It made his chest hurt and wings dip in fear. He supposed that if Michael would have followed Lucifer there, Lucifer may have just followed Michael if their positions were reversed. Especially if the mere thought hurt this much.

Not that he didn’t already hurt, that is. It wasn’t nearly as bad as when he first woke up, one month ago, but it made the thought of moving the least appetizing thing in the world.

Raphael had, apparently, been extremely optimistic in her estimate of a week.

Was this what humans felt after being injured, _every time_? No wonder the hospitals had always been overly concerned the few times he’d found himself there. If this was normal for a human, Lucifer felt a new sympathy for those that dealt with ‘chronic’ diseases. Feeling like this all the time would be horrid.

All his edges were jagged, brushing up against each other in ways that made Raphael look as if she was going to start crying. A side effect of the Enochian Magic used that they hadn’t been able to figure out just yet.

Thankfully, it faded each day. Raphael was hopeful that it would begin to fade entirely. Lucifer really hoped his sister was correct because he was very over it at this point.

Michael’s presence, however, helped a lot. The Darkness his Twin oozed soothed the jagged edges of his light in a way that had Lucifer reluctant to let his Twin go even if Michael had wanted to leave. Which wasn’t the case, as far as he could tell.

In fact, Lucifer had found himself on the receiving end of clinginess from _all_ of his siblings. From Azrael (the least surprising of them, other than Michael) all the way to even Amenadiel, who really should have been used to Lucifer doing something extremely dangerous at this point (maybe that was why he wasn’t as surprised as he pretended to be).

It was every sibling in between that had him wide-eyed and confused, however. Remiel had spent nearly an entire day sobbing whenever he looked at her. He’d thought he’d managed to do something wrong until Michael had explained the two-month coma thing to him.

Lucifer was still suspicious that’d he’d managed to do something wrong and his Twin was too oblivious to have noticed. They may not be exactly alike in every way (Lucifer was the Light, while Michael was the Dark, after all) but they shared the inability to really figure out social norms.

Even among their siblings.

…especially among their siblings.

You only had to look at every interaction he’d ever had with anyone outside his twin to figure that one out. He’d lost count of the number of times he’d made a younger sibling cry, only to have it be worse when Michael tried to fix his mistake.

What made him absolutely sure that he was in an alternate universe was the presence of his Dad.

God had been there the first time he’d woken, Lucifer remembered that much, though He’d been absent the second time. He hadn’t thought much about it at the time, distracted by the infestation of his sibling, but Lucifer hadn’t been all that surprised afterward.

Only to have the Almighty in the room every single time he woke from then on. It had taken him a few times to admit that he wasn’t just seeing things, as his Father sort of just _sat_ there, in a corner. Watching him.

He’d figured he might have lost it and hadn’t really mentioned it to any of his siblings.

Lucifer had been forced to admit he wasn’t insane when Azrael started a conversation with Father later that day.

Still, Dad never spoke to him once, though Lucifer got the feeling that the being was struggling to remain silent. Lucifer could sometime see Him move, as if to say something, out of the corner of his eye. The words never came though.

It made him scared, a little.

If his Father ordered it, Lucifer would be out of the Silver City before any of his siblings could say anything in protest. Well, before Raphael and Michael would protest, he wasn’t sure about the rest. Raphael had made it perfectly clear that if he even thought about moving before she was ready to declare it safe, he’d be sorry.

Michael, he was sure of, because his Twin stiffened whenever their Father moved to speak just as much as he did. Lucifer, to his shame, was _relieved_ that Michael had missed him just as much as Lucifer had missed Michael. It wasn’t an effect of his near demise, either. Lucifer might be a little rusty at reading his Twin, but he could see the delight the sometimes shuddered in pure black wings as Lucifer’s own brushed against them. Sometimes, Michael even initiated contact, even.

It settled something that had been broken, deep in the pit of his very being, each time that happened. He’d always been afraid, deep down, that Michael would hate him. That the next time he came face to face with his twin, he’d see disgust where there had once been affection. Anger where there had been love. Fury where there had been care.

He hadn’t known what he would do if his other Half had thought the same things that Amenadiel had, once. _Evil, worthless, not-my-brother._

“Feeling any different today?” Raphael broke into his thoughts. “Any change in the pain levels?”

It was a familiar question at this point. Lucifer nodded. “My wings don’t hurt as much.”

It had been a relief to wake up to. The pain was still there, he could feel it if he looked for it, yet it almost faded into the background completely when he was distracted. His body hurt a lot more than his wings did at this point.

The relief on everyone’s faces had Lucifer fighting back a nervous twitch. He still felt the need to flee whenever they turned that face on him, which was every time he reported less pain in any area of his person, thinking about it.

His nerves were going to be fried by the time he was fully healed; Lucifer was sure of it.

Had concern always been this nerve-wracking?

He couldn’t really remember.

“That’s good,” Raphael breathed looking as if she had just been given the best news ever. “Your wings were the worst off. Once they’ve fully healed, the rest of you should start to follow more closely.”

Lucifer carefully didn’t ask what his wings had looked like when they’d found him. He’d lost consciousness long before Kinley, the name of the priest according to Michael, had reached his wings. From the horror he could feel in the room from the mere _mention_ of the injury, Lucifer figured he was better off not knowing. He was probably better off not knowing anything about how he looked when Amenadiel had brought him in.

As it was, Lucifer still had no idea how his brother had even managed to find him or anything that had happened after. He could remember, vaguely, the images God had shown him while he was in _that_ place, though nothing clear. Something about Mazikeen?

He really didn’t want to know.

He was going to have to know.

It had been nearly three months ( _Only two weeks and four days on Earth,_ Michael supplied) and he’d been in a coma for two of those months. Every day since he’d woken up, Lucifer had pointedly not asked a single question about what had happened after he’d finally lost consciousness up to the point where he’d woken in Heaven.

He was almost healed now, though. He would be able to go back to Earth, soon. His humans and Mazikeen would be waiting for him to show up any day now. It was only at their Father’s will that it had only been a day since Michael, who admitted to hovering protectively of Lucifer’s human friends, had hightailed it back when Lucifer had woken. Without a single word of warning, according to his sheepish Twin.

Lucifer couldn’t really fault him, as he’d have likely done the exact same thing if Michael had been in a two-month coma. Angels didn’t end up in comas unless something was seriously wrong.

It did make him feel better to know that Michael had been standing guard over the humans and Maze. Lucifer had nearly laughed with every interaction Michael told him about that involved his Demon. Maze had never been one to take it well when he was hurt and having Michael there had made her even more volatile than normal worry did. The insane amount of knives that Michael had collected from her within three human days were likely included the entire supply in Lucifer’s kitchen, he’d noted. There were a few suspiciously familiar ones in the bunch Michael had brought out to show him.

That Maze had been livid when she’d realized Michael could store things in shadows nearly had Raphael joining Lucifer in his laughter. Even God, in his corner, had snorted at _that_ story.

_‘The human child wanted me to help her play hide and seek with them,’_ Michael added, silently. _‘Your Maze threatened to gut me, pluck me wings, and set me on fire if I so much as considered it.’_

That very much sounded like something Maze would do. _‘How many knives did you collect after you let Beatrice play in your shadows?’_ Lucifer asked because he also knew his twin. The moment that Maze had made it clear that she didn’t trust Michael with Beatrice’s safety enough to let her play with his domain, Michael would have immediately consented. Especially if he had been planning on saying no.

They were rather similar in that regard, he admitted.

_‘Fifty-nine,’_ Michael preened, smug. _‘I gave the sixtieth to Trixie.’_

Lucifer snickered. No doubt Maze had realized her mistake the moment that the threat had left her mouth. He’d warned her, should she every encounter his twin, that any attempt in telling Michael what to do that didn’t come from their Father would result in the exact opposite outcome. Lucifer had always been the one more likely to listen to reason, between the two of them. If you could convince him of the reasoning behind the action first, that was.

Michael just tended to be the more subtle of them, regarding his disobedience. The only one that his Twin had ever really granted full obedience to had been God. Anyone else, Michael was more than happy to do the opposite just to spite them.

Lucifer just had trouble following orders in general, no matter who gave them. The problem with being both the Light and the Will, instead of Michael’s Darkness and Power, he could admit. If only to himself.

He didn’t want to think about that right now though. That would lead to thoughts of the Rebellion and then he would be waiting for the other shoe to drop again. He was rather calm right now; it would be nice to keep it that way instead of bringing up old anxieties again. Pushing those thoughts aside, Lucifer glanced at the corner of the room.

Yep, still there.

No, calm, he reminded himself. Raphael would start fretting again if she noticed him starting to panic. His sister worried about him enough without him adding to her stress levels any more than he’d already had in the past three months. Best to keep to happy thoughts.

Except now he was thinking about Linda and that brought him back to _Chloe_. Somehow, everything always seemed to lead him back to Chloe.

He wondered if she missed him.

He worried that she was happy he was gone.

He feared that she would be disappointed that he’d survived.

The panic rose again as he fought to force those thoughts away. Why couldn’t he just be happy, just enjoy being in his Twin’s embrace, for only than a few minutes at a time? Every time he’d found himself relaxing, enjoying something, he ended up back where he started with a single thought! It had been a _month_ , already. He should be strong enough to be over this by now! He was the Devil, he refused to be broken by a mortal priest!

( _It’s not the priest that is the problem,_ a voice whispered in the back of his head. _She gave you to him, lied to you. Used you and threw you away when she couldn’t deal with what you were._ )

He needed to think about something else. Anything else, really.

With a hesitant breath, he finally asked the question that had been sitting in his head since he’d first worked out where he was. “How did you know that something had happened?” he asked Amenadiel, who sat in his usual place by the bed.

His older brother started, looking confused for a moment. Lucifer was about to clarify, as there could have been a lot of events that question referred to, thinking about it. Before he could, realization flashed across Amenadiel’s face.

“Who else?” his brother asked, dryly. “Maze. One day, I will figure out how she always seems to know that there’s something wrong with you. She stormed up to the penthouse, found the chaos, and promptly scared the pants off Linda after she’d ordered her to pray to me. Watching her on the warpath is something else, Luci. We had your location within an hour after she found your penthouse trashed.”

Lucifer winced. He hadn’t really thought about the state of his penthouse in the time that he’d been here. He’d assumed that it would have been left untouched as he’d already been out when they had taken him. Amenadiel saw his face and looked promptly guilty. “Sorry, Luci, should have told you that part sooner. They wanted it to look as much like a robbery gone wrong as possible. I don’t think that they’d counted on the poison being in the wine bottle as well. They hadn’t been told that part or I think they would have taken it with them.”

Figures, he grumbled silently as he pointedly ignored the comment about the wine bottle. It was easier to push the panic done with annoyance at the destruction of his home. Thoughts of the wine would have brought him back to _her_ and that would defeat the purpose of this.

“It’s fixed now,” Michael said, knowing as he always knew when Lucifer needed a distraction. “Your Maze cleaned up and put it back in order. She had your Dan file it with his employers so they would know why you were not there and prevent an investigation. As everything was only trashed, they did not need any others to come to investigate it. They’ve informed everyone that you are tracking down replacements for things beyond repair and placing in new security so you would be hard to reach for a while.”

Lucifer felt that worry fade away from him. He hadn’t realized that he’d been worried about how his disappearance would be taken by the LAPD. He’d become fond of many of them during the last few years that he had worked there and the thought of them worrying over him had not sat well. They would, he knew, still, worry but not as much as if they’d found the poisoned wine, his penthouse trashed, and himself nowhere to be found.

Maze had known that and had made sure to take care of it for him. He would have to thank her properly when he returned to Earth. Maybe she’d like a new pair of knives? Lucifer could take a few of the feathers that had fallen out during Raphael’s treatment and forge a few for her. She’d always loved the ones made form his feathers best, he knew. His sister had already gathered up all the feathers for him to do with what he wished while he’d recovered.

_‘I would not be averse to donating a few feathers,’_ Michael added in. _‘A set of four, two of yours and two of mine would be a worthy reward.’_

Lucifer blinked, surprised as the offer. He stared at his Twin, head cocked in askance.

_‘She is the reason we knew to find you,’_ Michael told him, seriously. _‘Had she not called for Amenadiel we would have not found you in time. A few feathers are nothing in comparison to that, my Twin.’_

Amenadiel had implied that, hadn’t he? Lucifer blinked away the sudden emotion that coiled in his stomach. He couldn’t put a name to it though it wasn’t unpleasant. “She wouldn’t protest that,” he answered aloud in an attempt to keep his fluctuating emotions from drowning out his words. Michael looked as if he understood and did not mention it.

“I forgot that you two could do that,” Azrael said, staring at them. “You didn’t do it much when I was little.”

“Because we’d finally gotten them trained out of the habit,” Amenadiel informed her, reluctantly amused if Lucifer was guessing right. “We’d be in the middle of a conversation and, suddenly, one of them would burst out laughing at random. It took forever to figure out they’d been talking to the other without any of us knowing.”

Neither Lucifer nor Michael refuted that. Lucifer allowed himself to fall into silence, enjoying the discussion of his and Michael’s antics when they were small. Azrael and some of the other younger ones looked enraptured by a few of the stories. Lucifer realized that they’d probably never heard them before.

Still, letting the words flow over him, Lucifer found himself relaxing further into his Twin’s hold.

From His corner, their Father watched it all.

* * *

Lucifer was good at hiding it, God saw, but His child was struggling.

Not just with the remnants of pain, that was to be expected, if not ideal. It was the thoughts of the Miracle and God's own presence that had His son on edge. He felt guilty for listening in, however, He could not stop Himself. Lucifer had been hurt and He needed the reassurance that His son’s thoughts gave Him as to Lucifer’s continued existence.

He had not counted on the hurt being sent to Hell would cause His child, God was sad to admit. Lucifer might not have said it out loud, though he did not need to. He did not even need to think it, truthfully. Even His other children could see it in the way Lucifer tensed whenever his recovery was mentioned. The flinch that appeared whenever He tried to speak. Every time He saw that flinch, so unintentional, He had aborted His planned speech immediately. Worse, Michael was reacting in the same way. He had known that Lucifer’s absence had been hard on His Sword, though He’d not thought it was to this extent.

How many other things had He missed, in His anger?

How many of His other children were suffering and He was blind to it?

God was afraid of the answer. His children had once come to Him with anything. A rock they’d created on their own for him, a question about the Earth, even just for a simple hug. He was ashamed that He could not remember when that had stopped.

He was horrified to realize that it had been long before the Rebellion.

They’d been caught up, the Goddess and Himself, in Their growing resentment of each other for so _long_. It had been good, in the Beginning. They had loved each other and Their children with all of their being. Creating the Silver City, encouraging Their children to stretch their own powers, and being a Family.

Somewhere, and God did not know when, that had changed. The Goddess grew cold, He retreated to work on Humanity, and Their children drifted away from Them. Now that He was among them once more, He could see the change in how each of them interacted with Him. They were cautious, afraid that if they said the wrong thing, He would pull away again. Had this been what Lucifer had seen? Was this what had caused His Lightbringer to Rebel?

Lucifer had always claimed that it had been because of Humanity’s Free Will. God wondered if that had only been a small part of it. His Lightbringer had never been one to have only a single reason behind any of his actions. At the time, God had been too furious to wonder about that.

Now He wondered if that hadn’t been a mistake. Free Will could have easily been the reason, but it could have also been a misdirection. Lucifer had claimed to want Free Will for himself and that was true for his Lightbringer never told a lie. Now, God wondered if he hadn’t also been fighting for it for his _siblings_ right to Free Will _._ With God and Goddess both withdrawn, Their children would have been unable to truly _do_ anything. They could not leave the Silver City without permission, would have been forced keep within the borders that separated them from the rest of Creation.

Such confinement, God realized, would have been torture. One they could not choose to leave because they did not have the ability to defy their Parents.

Why had He not seen this sooner? Had not tried to find the reason behind His Lightbringer’s actions?

He’d been too caught up with His fight with the Goddess, He realized. So furious with Her, when Lucifer had started to Defy Him, to Rebel, it had been too easy to turn that Fury on His son. And in that misplaced anger, He had punished His son more than his actions had deserved.

There was no doubt that Lucifer had deserved punishment, not even His Lightbringer would have denied that. The Rebellion had gotten out of hand, and though none had died, there had been injuries. Sending him to Hell, cutting him off from their family entirely, that had been Too Far. He had answered Lucifer’s anger at His negligence with more negligence, He realized.

Humanity had never been the reason it had only ever been the final straw.

It was no small wonder that His Twins were afraid of His words now. He had sent one of them away before, why would they not believe He would do so again?

Worse, He was still making the same mistake. He had confined His children once more to the Silver City, unless their duties took them elsewhere. Now that He looked for it, He could see the unease and wear it was causing on each and every one of them. Angels were not made to be confined, born of the primal power of the God and Goddess who could not be contained. That power that lived within each of them demanded the freedom of movement, of exploration. It fought and struggled against the bonds that His orders wrapped around it, becoming raw as time moved on.

Was this what had driven Uriel insane? Uriel, the angel of patterns, would have been forced to watch as his siblings struggled, over and over, with no way to break the pattern that He had forced on them all. Would have been forced to see the same happen to himself, with now way to change it. His own domain turned on him, it would have further agitated his already raw instincts. Until Uriel had broken underneath it all.

He had been so invested in Humanity, He had allowed His children to suffer.

God felt ill. He had to fix this.

He could not, much as He wanted to, just wave His hand and allow His children to explore as they wished. Lucifer’s injuries had shown Him that Earth was not safe as it was now for His children. Hell would be safer but that could give the wrong message considering His actions in the past when it came to His use of it as a punishment. The last thing He wanted was to make them think He was punishing them for their pain.

He wouldn’t be making that mistake again, now that He was aware of it.

No, He had to find a way to make the Earth safe for His children so that they could explore without worry.

He had no idea how He was going to do that.

God sat in the corner of the infirmary, surrounded by His children, and plotted.

* * *

“You’re resigning?” Monroe asked her, shocked. Their former Lieutenant and current Chief of Police had temporarily taken back her position after the chaos that had come from Pierce’s revelation as the Sinnerman.

Chloe looked her in the eyes and nodded. “I’ve tried but I just can’t do this anymore. After what happened with the Sinnerman and Marcus Pierce, I don’t feel like I can do this job to the best of my abilities anymore.”

It wasn’t a lie, not really. Chloe really had been reeling since that day, just not in the way that she implied. She should have done this weeks ago, she admitted to herself. Every time she looked at her coworkers and saw them glancing her way, she knew that they were thinking about her relationship with Pierce, or worse, wondering how to ask her about Lucifer.

Maze and Dan had taken care of it. She’d nearly choked on her drink the first time someone had asked her if Lucifer had managed to get everything back in order after the break in. She’d barely managed to stammer out a good answer, pretending that they had just startled her. Luckily, Walters had pretty much snuck up behind her before speaking with no warning, so Chloe had gotten away with it, in the end. After her coughing fit, she’d managed her best non-answer before sending a text to Dan.

He’d reluctantly filled her in on the cover story so that she didn’t somehow give herself away. It was the only thing that he ever replied to anymore, whenever she tried to initiate contact. Well, that and an update on Trixie.

She hadn’t been surprised when Trixie had moved in with Dan full time. Even if everything hadn’t happened with Lucifer and Kinley, Chloe hadn’t been doing a good job of parenting her daughter lately. She’d all but abandoned Trixie in the middle of _Rome,_ for fuck’s sake, and then spent all her time at home hiding in her room. She couldn’t remember the last time that she had just sat down and spent time with her daughter.

Trixie had been understanding, though hurt about it all to start with. Now, though, Chloe knew that she was far less forgiving. Now, Trixie knew that Chloe had sunken to the level of the very people that she’d once put in jail. Worse, she couldn’t even turn herself in.

Every day since, coming to work had felt wrong. She’d poisoned her best friend, with something that would have killed a human the moment it was ingested, and then given him over to people that had proceeded to torture him nearly to death. She didn’t deserve to work in the same place as he did and she would be damned again if she was the reason he left.

Despite having started consulting in order to follow her around, Lucifer _loved_ working with the LAPD. It was where he’d gained all of his friends, a way to spend time with them all while still being able to punish people that deserved it. She wasn’t the only one he’d work with anymore, either. He’d been known to help whenever someone needed a little extra _something_ to get a confession from a guilty party.

She’d come in more than once to find him already there, playing translator for a witness, or helping break the news of a loved one’s death when they didn’t speak English. The LAPD had yet to find a language that Lucifer _didn’t_ speak and had used that knowledge accordingly. Lucifer had always preened, pleased whenever they thanked him for his help.

It was one of the reasons Dan never seemed to run out of pudding, she thought dryly. Not that Lucifer had ever noticed that. To the hilarity of everyone, as long as it had Dan’s name on it, Lucifer was more than willing to eat it without realizing the handwriting definitely was _not_ Dan’s.

She’d never seen her ex more amused in the entire time she’d known him. Dan even managed a good angry face whenever he saw Lucifer eating his ‘stolen’ goods. It had become something of a station joke, actually.

No, Chloe would not take anything else from him. She couldn’t fix what she had done but she could give him this.

“You’re sure about this, Decker?” Monroe asked, softly.

Chloe decided to go for a portion of the truth. “I nearly pulled my gun on Andrews when he startled me last week. I _did_ pull my gun on a squirrel that ran into my window yesterday. I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in weeks and Trixie is living with Dan full time because I forgot she was staying with me for three days and she was taking the public bus to school and home, _alone._ And making dinner for herself. Right now, I’m a danger to myself and everyone around me.”

There was not a single lie in there, though that thing with Trixie had happened before she’d decided to tell her daughter the truth. It had just been another reason that Chloe had thought the eleven-year-old was better staying with her father.

“I didn’t know it had gotten that bad,” Monroe sucked in a breath. “Why didn’t you say anything before? You’ve been back for weeks.”

Chloe grimaced. “I was doing good, in the beginning. I thought that, when I started getting jumpy again, I could push past it. I think it wasn’t until the squirrel that I admitted this had gone on too long.”

The truth but still not all the truth. She felt nauseous when Monroe gave her a sympathetic look. “It’s not the job, it’s being back here,” the chief said with certainty.

Lucifer hadn’t been the only reason for her promotion. Olivia Monroe as _good_ at her job. She could read people and connect the job better than most other cops that had been up for promotion. Lucifer’s support had only been the tipping point, in all honesty.

“Yeah,” Chloe nodded because it was the truth. “I’ve applied to an opening in San Jose. I got the acceptance letter yesterday. I’ve got a week to get a place and move before I start. I’m sorry to spring this on you but I guess I wanted to pretend that everything was okay for as long as I could.”

The sympathy on Monroe’s face made her heart hurt. “We’ll miss you Decker. I’m sorry that things turned out this way, I hope you know that. Have you told Morningstar yet?”

Chloe nodded, the first lie. “He’s been preoccupied with the mess at LUX but he knows. We haven’t had the best relationship since it happened either. I think it’s likely that’ll he’ll stay here. He’s got his business and I think he’s actually _more_ attached to this place after everything.”

Maze wouldn’t have been as eager and helpful in setting up their lie, if she hadn’t been positive that Lucifer would want to come back. And Lucifer hadn’t just been waiting for her when he’d been coming in during the month she was in Rome. Quite a few of the officers had been requesting his help for various things. Sometimes, Ella had told her when she’d first gotten back, it had just been an excuse to check on him.

They might have all thought Lucifer was a nutcase, what with the Devil thing, but the LAPD was fond of him and protective in the wake of Pierce and the Sinnerman.

Chloe knew, for sure this time, that she was doing the right thing by leaving. There would be people that would miss her; however, _everyone_ would feel the loss if it was Lucifer that was the one to leave.

Monroe nodded, as if she had come to that conclusion herself. Likely, Chloe reflected, she had. “Alright. You can leave your badge and gun here. Email me the details and I’ll mail your items to the San Jose station. Ah!” Monroe stopped her protest. “You have been one of the best officers I’ve ever had, Decker. It’s the least I can do for you after everything that’s gone down. I was the one that cleared Pierce to work here. Now, I’ll take care of the announcement and everything else. You worry about relocating. It won’t be easy, moving your entire life and being away so far away from your daughter.”

Tears gathered in Chloe’s eyes. She wanted to yell that she didn’t deserve this treatment, spill everything that she had done, but she couldn’t do that. Instead, she accepted the hug Monroe pulled her into before wiping her eyes and setting her gun and badge down on the desk.

No one noticed their absence as she left Monroe’s office and she didn’t make any move to draw attention to it. Chloe didn’t think that she could have managed it if they all started trying to reassure her or wish her a goodbye. Not when they didn’t know the whole story. So she smiled when someone wished her a good night and chatted with Richards when she walked past the receptionist desk.

As she reached the door, she allowed herself one last look at the precinct she’d worked at for so long. Police and civilians bustled around and went on about their day just as they had the first day she had stepped foot here.

With one last deep breath, Chloe walked out the door of the LAPD for the last time.

Her soul lightened for the first time in weeks, since the day that she had committed the worst mistake of her life.

* * *

“Chloe resigned?” Ella asked, shocked.

Dan nodded, “Yeah, Monroe announced it this morning. Said that Chloe couldn’t deal with being back after everything that went down with Cain and had decided to take a position in San Jose.”

They were gathered around Lucifer’s dinner table, eating. It was the first night after Michael had up and vanished on them mid-conversation. They had been uneasy ever since. Dan had been tempted to pray, try and figure out what had caused the Archangel to vanish like that, but Maze recommended against it.

“Something important would have had to happened for Michael to bolt like that,” she’d said, knife gripped tightly in her hand. “Since he didn’t look afraid, Lucifer’s probably awake. If that’s the case, then I want Michael there instead of here.”

The way she’d stabbed before mentioned knife into the counter made Dan rethink protesting. Maze didn’t do well when she was worried, even worse when she was worried and had no way of finding out what was going on. If Linda hadn’t warned against it, he would have reminded her that she could check on Lucifer herself now.

Ella slumped. “I wondered what was going to happen,” she admitted quietly. “Lucifer really likes coming in to consult. With Chloe there, though…”

Yeah, Dan had been having the same thought. It wouldn’t have been right, but Lucifer would have likely resigned as a consultant. Dan knew the man well enough to know that he wouldn’t have forced Chloe to be the one to leave.

It made settled a bit of his anger with her that Chloe had decided to make the choice herself. He was still pissed at her and he doubt that he would ever forgive her. He could, however, admit that Chloe could have easily kept on going as she was, letting Lucifer be the one to make the hard choice. That she hadn’t was a step in the right direction, at least.

Maze was clearly pleased about it, if the lack of snarl at the mention of Chloe’s name was any indication.

Trixie frowned into her plate. Dan winced.

Their daughter hadn’t been taking Chloe’s role in this well at all. She refused to talk to her mother and refused to even mention her name ever since Chloe had come clean. Dan had no idea what to do about it. She was right to be angry; Dan couldn’t scold her for that.

Hell, he hadn’t been able to speak to Chloe in person without yelling so it’s not like he could lead by _example_! He couldn’t even try to justify or explain why Chloe had done what she had to Trixie because he just honestly couldn’t understand it.

Finding out that Lucifer really was the Devil had actually _helped_ Dan instead of hindered him. He’d been furious because he’d thought that Lucifer had let his delusion get in the way of stopping Pierce and had allowed Pierce to kill Charlotte. Since he _wasn’t_ delusional, Lucifer had been doing the best he could to get them all to listen to him with no success. All that meant that Dan really couldn’t understand where Chloe was coming from.

He’d talked to Linda, since she was the only one here that had seen Lucifer’s Devil face and was no closer to having an answer. Linda had been terrified and, apparently, had hidden in her office for two weeks, but Maze had managed to break her out of it. _Maze_! During that time, Linda had _never_ considered poisoning either of them in a mad quest to send them back to hell.

Which left Dan stumped and unable to help his daughter through this. Maze was for once tactfully avoiding the issue, so there was no help coming from her (which was probably for the best). Ella tried and had only ended up flailing in Spanish when her anger finally got the better of her. Dan had been forced to calm her down and Trixie had retreated by then. Who knew that Ella had such a temper?

Linda was the only one that had any training on the matter and was trying her best. She was close to the situation, she’d warned them, so she really shouldn’t have been involved at all. Since they couldn’t exactly hire someone who _wasn’t_ in the know because really, how did you even begin to explain that? _You see, doctor, my ex-wife found out that her partner was the Devil. And because of that she poisoned him and handed him over to an insane priest who found really Angel Magic and nearly permanently destroyed him. Don’t worry, Lucifer was then saved by God but my daughter refuses to talk to her because of this._

He’d get locked up faster than he could blink, let alone get Trixie help, so Linda had agreed to do what she could.

Trixie was reluctant to talk so far but Linda had told him to expect that. It had only been a few days since they had started and things like this took time.

Dan just wanted his daughter to smile again.

Turning his attention back to Ella, Dan tried to focus on what the forensic scientist was saying.

He hoped Lucifer came back soon.

* * *

Amenadiel frowned as his Father beckoned him to follow Him. Both Michael and Lucifer were asleep on their bed, the rest of their siblings having left for the day.

He hadn’t been able to make himself leave them for more than a few hours at a time. He was constantly afraid that he’d come back to find Lucifer had fallen back into a coma while he’d been gone. It was the same fear that kept Raphael sleeping in the infirmary whenever she was able. There were times when she needed to tend to other matters, however, she was always there whenever he was not.

He glanced at his sister, who nodded. She would remain until he returned.

Satisfied, he followed his Father out of the infirmary.

They walked in silence as they made their way to Father’s quarters. Whatever it was God wanted to discus, He wanted to do it where none of Amenadiel’s siblings could overhear.

That could mean something good or something terrible, in his experience.

Once inside Father’s rooms, Amenadiel was surprised to see the Kinley, in full statue form, was sitting just in view. From what he could see, the soul was not yet aware of what was going on around him.

God saw where his attention had strayed and nodded. “That is only one part of what I need to discuss with you.”

Amenadiel startled, looking at his Father. “I’m happy to help,” he answered, hesitantly. It was almost unheard of for their Father asked for another’s input before He acted on a Sentence. It was also rare, Amenadiel allowed, for a Sentence to have been passed in the first place.

“I would like you to be honest with me, Amenadiel,” Father started, serious. “This is no time for platitudes or to hold back in effort to not offend me. How many of your siblings have become restless since being confined to the Silver City?”

Amenadiel froze, not expecting that.

When God had announced that divinity was to be kept from the humans and that they would be mostly held to the borders of the Silver City, no one had voiced a protest in fear of what would happen if they had. Lucifer’s fate, after his Rebellion, was still fresh in their minds at that point. So they had, unhappily, kept themselves in the boundaries of the Silver City, where they had remained unless their tasks had allowed them to venture out.

It was maddening, Amenadiel remembered. His very skin itched with the need to fly freely through the universe like when he had been younger, to explore everything Creation had to offer them. When he’d been given the task of returning Lucifer to Hell, whenever his brother had spent too long amongst the humans, that itch had faded until it had all but vanished.

It had been a long time since Amenadiel thought of how those early days felt. When he’d been bound to Earth, the itch had returned in a different form. He’d been desperate to return home, to see his siblings and relax in his own part of the Silver City. It had been what had driven his need to regain his wings and had been what had allowed his Mother into helping Her, in those first months. Until reason had finally slapped him over the head and he realized what an absolute moron he was being in the form of that Tablet.

If that was the effect of only a few years?

“Yes, that is what I was afraid of,” Father muttered, evidently listening in. Amenadiel was, for once, thankful of that. He hadn’t known how to put any of that into words, had been struggling to find a single word that could convey how the power had bubbled and frothed underneath his skin.

Is that why Lucifer always returned to earth? It had never really occurred to him, before now. Surely his brother would have felt the same need to roam as the rest of them. Amenadiel grimaced, it was even possible that Lucifer had also been feeling the itch to return home. It would explain why his brother hadn’t tried to book it back to Earth just yet. Amenadiel was not stupid enough to think that, Raphael’s order or not, Lucifer would already be back on Earth should he have desperately wanted to be there.

Lucifer might want to get back to the humans, missed them even if he never voiced it where anyone other than Michael could hear, yet he was clearly enjoying the energy of the Silver City. Even if he was currently confined within the infirmary.

Father was pacing now, looking thoughtful.

“May I ask what this is about, Father?” he hesitantly spoke up when it became clear that God had become lost in His thoughts.

The Almighty glanced at him and slowed His pace. “It has come to My attention that I have been unknowingly causing your siblings distress by confined them to the Silver City. I have been paying attention to you all as you crowd around infirmary. With every single mention of the earthly plane, your souls light with longing. A longing that has highlighted a rawness caused by the confinement to boarders of Heaven.”

Amenadiel felt his eyes widen. He had known that the itch was bad, that they were all restless within the Silver City’s wall. He just hadn’t thought that it had been manifesting on their very _souls_.

“I find Myself at an impasse,” Father continued. “Ideally, I would lift the restrictions that confine yourself and the others to the City. It would fix the rawness that confinement has caused and give you the chance to explore Creation once more. The problem is that, should I lift the confinement, the most viable option of exploration would be the mortal plane.”

_Where the humans are,_ Amenadiel supplied. It was well known that humans did not do well in the face of divinity. Many were driven mad by it, either in rapture or in horror.

“That is not the problem,” God waved, clearly still listening. “A few adjustments to the way you are viewed while on the earthly plane could keep the normal effects of divinity to minimum. There would still be some awe, but it would not break them as it has in current centuries. The humans have merely become desensitized as you have interacted with them less and less. A couple centuries from now, with exposure, I would not even need to alter their view of you.”

There really was nothing Amenadiel could say to that, so he kept silent.

“The true problem is that Earth is not safe,” God growled and gestured to Kinley. “This _mortal_ has shown Me that. If I were to allow the confinement to lift, there is a good chance that your siblings could be targeted by the humans. I will not allow what happened with your brother to happen to any of you ever again.”

“Which is where you’ve reached an impasse,” Amenadiel realized.

“Yes,” Father sighed. “Your siblings require the ability to roam and Earth has proven more dangerous that Hell since the days that you last roamed it. Were you aware that the humans have been attempting something like what _that,_ ” He pointed towards Kinley, “accomplished on Lucifer for centuries? This was only the most successful attempt. I uncovered the past attempts after I investigated the exorcism magic this one used before the Enochian magic.”

Amenadiel jerked, horrified. “I had no idea,” he whispered. There had been times where Lucifer hadn’t fought him before being returned to Hell, Amenadiel remembered. He’d always thought that his brother had merely gotten bored with the humans and just hadn’t wanted to go back on his own. Another way to irritate him when Amenadiel was forced to come pick him up. “Why didn’t he say anything?”

“Your brother assumed we were already aware,” the Lord growled. “If I had not still been ignoring him, he would have been right. Unlike what your brother assumes, I have not been paying the correct amount of attention to him that I should have been. That is not a mistake I will be making with any of you again. We have been very lucky that Michael has not been to Earth since this started. If he had been mistaken for Lucifer…”

Amenadiel shuddered at the thought. If a priest had tried an exorcism on _Michael_ while invoking Lucifer’s name, his brother would have lost it. Not even their Father’s rules on killing a human would keep the mortal who tried such a thing safe, especially not if they made it clear they were aiming for Lucifer. It could have triggered another Rebellion, with Michael leading the charge this time, should he have thought their Father had known and done nothing to stop it. Unlike Lucifer, Michael would not have been careful to keep the mortals from being drawn in.

The Earth could have very easily been completely annihilated.

“Exactly,” God agreed. “I am not sure that I would have stopped it, either. The fact of the matter is that I did not know because I was not looking for it. Now that I am, it has painted a disturbing image. Until Earth is safe, I cannot lift the confinement. Free Will means that I cannot simply order the humans to leave you be. Yet, in order to preserve your sanity before another snaps the Uriel did, I must end the confinement. How am I to make the Earth safe without infringing on human Free Will while also ending the confinement before another of My children is lost to us?”

Amenadiel felt a stab of pain at Uriel’s name, though he kept his questions on the matter to himself. He didn’t think he was ready to hear what, exactly, his Father had figured out about Uriel’s actions just yet. It was still too raw to think about, made worse by what had happened to Lucifer. Uriel, indirectly, had been the cause for all of this.

Amenadiel turned his thoughts back to the question, frowning. The thing about it was that Amenadiel had no idea what the solution to this was. His Father was right in that things could not stay the same, not if this was what had caused Uriel to go off the deep end. If another of their siblings lost it, then Amenadiel was afraid they’d find themselves in the middle of another civil war when someone was forced to put the angel down. No matter what guilt Lucifer felt, if Uriel had been so mad that he’d begun giving forbidden magics to humans, then there hadn’t been another option other than to kill him before he hurt anyone else. Confinement could never work on an angel of patterns for long, even if it was a Cell in Hell. Given enough time, Uriel could find a way out of the most complex of locks if he concentrated enough.

“I think,” Amenadiel began. “That we are going to need a human perspective on this. It’s been my experience that only a human can understand humans. I’ve found myself lost a number of times trying to follow their logic in the path, just as I know Lucifer has. May I bring this to one of his humans and gather their thoughts on the matter?”

Father looked surprised at his words. “Perhaps that is for the best,” He agreed.

Amenadiel nodded and sent another glance at Kinley. “Is it your hope to use Kinley as a solution in this?” That would certainly explain why the preacher was still here instead of somewhere on Earth.

“Ideally,” God acknowledged. “If not, I am sure I can find another use for him.”

Amenadiel nodded, considering. “I will return after I speak to Luci’s humans,” he promised.

As soon as God dismissed him, Amenadiel opened his wings and flew.

* * *

“You wanna run that by me again?” Ella squeaked; eyes wide. Her fellow humans looked just as stunned as she did.

Amenadiel sighed. “I have already explained it to you more than once,” he grumbled. “I am not going through it all for a fifth time.”

Honestly, he thought, the concept wasn’t that foreign.

“Look,” Dan broke in. “You’ve just told us that God wants our opinion on how to make humanity safe for angels. God, creator of the universe, wants _our_ _opinion._ ”

Alright, Amenadiel admitted. Perhaps it really _was_ a foreign concept. “I know that it’s asking a lot,” he began, ignoring Maze’s snort from where she watched them all. “However, this is a serious problem! We can’t very well just wait until someone else goes made! Uriel is the whole reason Kinley was able to injure Lucifer this much in the first place! Uriel was the angel of patterns and prophecy, for all we know something else is going to pop up because of him. What if someone like Raziel is the next to lose it? What do you think would happen if humanity lost the ability to keep secrets?”

The four stares of horror left him know they were starting to get how dire the situation was. “That would be serious levels of not good,” Ella finally said. “Like, I love you guys, but I like having parts of my life that are just for me. And I so don’t want to know everything you do in your spare time, no detail barred. Like, seriously. That would be so awkward.”

“Exactly,” Amenadiel leaned back, triumphant that they were finally getting somewhere. “Which means we need to nip this in the bud before it can get worse. We’re lucky Father noticed it now. I really don’t want to know what would have happened if, say, Gabriel were to lose it next. She’s really been on edge lately and I’m not willing to put it down to Lucifer being injured. Not now that I know what happened to Uriel.”

“Right then,” Maze but in. “In the interest of avoiding any archangels going mad and running rampant around the planet, let’s get to thinking. What’s the biggest worry?”

“Humans going after angels in order to sate their greed or for any number of different reasons,” Amenadiel repeated, deciding not to protest the demons interference just in case she had some useful incite. “Father can fix the reaction to our wings until humanity has built up a resistance again so that shouldn’t be a problem. If a human were to attack one of us, especially after what happened with Lucifer, it could incite a war between humans and angels when my siblings retaliated. Father’s not sure even His rule against killing humans would keep my siblings from going for blood. Humanity isn’t their favorite thing right now,” he defended when he noticed the shock on their faces.

“If I was a super-powerful angel and humans nearly killed my sibling, I probably would react badly too,” Ella admitted. “I guess it makes sense that you guys don’t like us much right now.”

Amenadiel relaxed and scolded himself. He supposed he wasn’t really exempt from the anger towards humans after all. Worse, he’d lived around humans for a few years so he knew the kind of things that humans did to each other.

“Well, if the goal is to keep from an all-out war,” Linda mused. “Maybe you should consider introducing dignitaries before giving the all-clear. A few angels that can negotiate with governments, get some protections put in place for your siblings. Right now, you guys basically don’t exist in the eyes of the everyday public. Throwing your existence in everyone’s faces without warning is going to cause more harm in the long run.”

That was a good idea, Amenadiel nodded in agreement.

Dan nodded. “Yeah. It helps that Lucifer’s been running around helping the LAPD for years now. He’d be a good place to start, since he’d the one most likely to get the brunt of the backlash. As far as humanity knows, the Devil and God hate each other. If we want to make it safe for everyone here, that’s going to have been addressed.”

Right, Amenadiel grimaced. Lucifer had never been quiet about his identity and if angels started proving they were real, a lot of the things his brother had been doing over the last few years we're going to suddenly have a lot more people believing his claims of being the Devil. It was easy to ignore super-speed, invulnerability, and super strength when there was no such thing as the Devil. Take that away?

“Even better,” Ella spoke up, suddenly hyper. “If we could get angels that were willing to work with the police, it would be easy to make sure any crimes against angels were investigated by angels. God isn’t willing to get rid of Free Will right?”

“Right,” Amenadiel confirmed.

Ella nodded. “So since people suck, really stupid and greedy assholes are going to still go after you guys. Who better to investigate that than an angel? That would still let you all retaliate without causing, you know, a full-on war.”

Amenadiel grinned. “That could work,” he said. “Better, we could get all supernatural related cases turned over to angels. You would not believe the amount of times Luci and I were running around behind your backs over the years because something celestial or infernal was happening.”

“You really wouldn’t,” Linda added, dryly. “You said Raphael was a healer?”

Amenadiel nodded.

“You could get it so that hospitals were trained on what to do with an injured angel,” Linda glared. “That way, you could all stop calling me because _I am not that kind of doctor._ ”

Amenadiel coughed, sheepishly. “Yes, there is also that…”

“Dude,” Ella said, looking between them both. “Do I even want to know?”

Before either Linda, Maze or Amenadiel could answer, Dan broke in. “I think we’re better off leaving it,” he grimaced. “We’ll find out eventually if it becomes relevant. I, for one, would rather not know that I was dating the Goddess of Creation at one point. If _that’s_ one of the things we didn’t notice, can you imagine what else was happening?”

Ella shuddered. “When you’re right, you’re right,” the scientist conceded, hands held up. “Anyway, did that help you out?”

Amenadiel nodded. “Introduce ourselves slowly. Negotiate with the government, get crimes against angels to be handled by angels, and train doctors to deal with angelic injuries instead of always calling Linda. That’s a good place to start, at least.”

“What about the scum priest?” Maze finally asked, before anyone could say anything else. “You still have to figure him into this. The Almighty intends for him to be part of this introduction somehow, right?”

Amenadiel had, honestly, forgotten about that part. He’d been so relieved that they’d been getting somewhere, Kinley had been the furthest thing from his mind. “Correct,” he admitted.

Maze nodded, moving forward into the room. “You all are acting like this is going to be easy,” the demon started. “You’re forgetting that humans engage in wars all the time. Every century or so, you’re all fighting over something or another, killing hundreds at a time. Negotiating is only going to work with the more peaceful ones. The ones you’re going to have to watch are the ones that are more attracted to _violence_.”

“She’s right,” Linda sighed. “It’s the human condition to fear and try to destroy something that we don’t understand. The last time angels were around, it was before things like nuclear bombs and guns. Lucifer’s proof that you aren’t always immune to the effects of human weapons. There are going to people who are afraid enough to try using them on you.”

“So how do we prevent that?” Amenadiel asked, dryly. “You obviously have an idea, Maze. Care to share?”

The Demon grinned. If that was the grin she gave her bounties, it was no wonder most of them ended up wetting themselves, Amenadiel thought with affection. Maze really did grow on you, violent tendencies and all.

“Kinley,” she said easily. “Use him as your introduction. Put him someplace public, announce his crimes and his sentence. Tell the entire world exactly what awaits someone that uses deadly force on an angel. Then tell them exactly what happened to the people that helped him in his crimes. The news about the missing priests is everywhere. The police are already trying to figure out what turned them to ash, now that they’ve used DNA to tie it to the priests.”

“A show of force as a way to make sure that they take things seriously,” Amenadiel mused. “A call back to the plagues of Egypt; reminding humanity that we are a power that they once feared and for good reason.”

“Uh,” Dan cleared his throat. “As a human currently here, I would like to point out that Maze makes a good point but can you put that in a way that sounds less like you’re about to smite the firstborn children of the world in order to make a point?”

Ella nodded, her eyes wide as saucers. “That was like, super threatening.”

“That’s the point,” Maze rolled her eyes, flipping a knife in her hand. Amenadiel wasn’t sure where she’d gotten that from, as she hadn’t had it a moment ago and wasn’t wearing an outfit that she could have easily stored it in. “You humans seem to have forgotten that angels are _warriors_ , not just God’s messengers or kids. Lucifer is the one that trained _me._ If angels and humans are going to make nice, you all need to remember that and fast. Right now, every single angel in the Silver City are pissed. If humans give them a reason to attack, you aren’t going to come out on top. Especially if God doesn’t think His rule will stop them if they have a good enough reason to kill a human.”

Maze surveyed the three humans, letting her words sink in. “Worse, God will never choose humans over the angels again. Not right now, after losing Uriel and almost losing Lucifer. If humans for Him to choose, it’s not going to be pretty. So, the angels can’t be kept confined in the Silver City anymore and humanity can’t be allowed to push them into a war. In Hell, the best way to deal with a damned soul that was giving us trouble was a show of force. I’ve read your history books, your lot used similar tactics with the Russians not too long ago. What’s to stop it from working here?”

“You want to use mutually shared destruction?” Linda asked, looking shocked. “You destroy us, we destroy you?”

“More like you attack us, we wipe you from existence,” Maze corrected casually.

Amenadiel thought it over. “That could work,” he mused. “Though maybe not as clear cut as that. You’re right in that some people are still going to try something. The police idea and the dignitaries are good suggestions. Maze is also right in that we need to be clear on what we are. I’ve seen your cards,” he told them when they gave him surprised looks. “If you lot think that we’re a bunch of mild-mannered, music playing beings then you won’t take the threat of retaliation as seriously. Using Kinley and the twelve priests to make that point could go a long way to keeping things from escalating past the point of salvage.”

Amenadiel moved his wings, readying himself to return to his Father with everything they’d discussed before he was stopped.

“How’s Lucifer doing?” Ella asked, softly. The scientist had her hands in her lap and wasn’t looking at him full on. She bit her lip as he looked at her, confused. “We figured he must be awake now since Michael left in a hurry.”

His wings dropped a bit as he looked at her. Finally, he answered. “Better. Raphael’s keeping him under observation since he’s still in a lot of pain, but it is fading over time. Michael’s presence is keeping the worst of it at bay which is why he hasn’t been back yet. Raphael thinks that part of the bond they share is speeding up his recovery, so she isn’t about to send him away either. She’s hoping to clear him any time now. The moment she does, Lucifer’s planning on coming straight here.” _Probably with Michael right behind him_ , he doesn’t say.

Ella’s shoulders have relaxed. She’d not the only one. Linda looks relieved and Dan is doing his best to pretend that he wasn’t worried in the least. If Trixie hadn’t been in school, Amenadiel was sure that she’d be just as relieved as the rest.

Spreading his wings, Amenadiel surveyed them again. Sighing, he let them fall again. “He’s hurt,” the angel admitted. “He loved Chloe, more than I thought, and she broke him. Michael is probably the only thing that’s keeping him from wallowing and letting that hurt fester. He has days where he doesn’t talk, just listens to us, and he flinches when one of us does something he isn’t expecting. He’s constantly waiting for us to turn on him, with the only exception being Michael. He misses Earth and he even misses Chloe.”

“He’s hurt but he’s still alive,” Amenadiel stressed. “He’s probably going to need more than a few sessions with you, Linda, when he gest back. I think, though, that he’ll be fine in time.”

Linda nodded, likely already expecting that she would be dealing with the fallout once Lucifer resumed their session. Ella wiped her eyes and smiled at him while Dan hugged her.

“Tell him we say hi,” Dan said, his grin a little wobbly. Amenadiel didn’t call him on it, though.

The angel nodded seriously. “Of course.”

Then with a flap of wings, he was gone.

* * *

It was early Wednesday morning, August 7th, 2019 that it happened.

No one had noticed it at first, busy as they were getting ready for the day. It wasn’t until the first light of day illuminated the grounds of the United Nations building in Geneva, Switzerland that one of the staff alerted security to a problem on the grounds.

Thinking nothing of it, security had made their way across the grounds, fully prepared for yet another prank left on the grounds by some teenager or protester that wanted to leave their mark.

Instead, as the guards approached, they realized they weren’t staring at a prop as they’d suspected, but an actual stone statue that seemed to have materialized from the very ground itself.

“What the hell?” one muttered as they inspected the statue. From a knock on the stone, they could both hear it was solid. “How the fuck did they get this here? I don’t see any tire marks.”

In fact, as the guards looked around, they couldn’t find a single bit of evidence that indicated where the statue had arrived from.

“Hey, is that a plaque?” One asked, noticing that instead of real to life carved feet, the bottom of the statue flattened into a smooth surface. Unnoticed before then, words were carved in bold lettering within the stone.

“Well read it,” the other ordered, still trying to find where the stone changed to dirt. Oddly, even though the grass seemed to be undisturbed, he could not find the bottom of the statue. It was like it was melded into the very earth around it.

“Here stand William Kinley,” the guard read to the other. “He who sought to destroy a Child of God. For his crimes, he will stand here until the End of Day, where his soul will be returned to Creation. Until such time, he will serve as a warning to his Fellow Man. So Sayeth the Lord.”

His companion looked up from the ground. “You’ve gotta be kidding me. Jesus, what will these people think up next?”

“Holy fuck,” his companion screamed, scrambling away from the statue. “David, holy fuck! Get away from that thing!”

The newly named David stood and made his way around the statue. “What, Jose? Honestly, I know that you’re religious, but you can’t tell me you honestly buy that this thing is an actual person?”

Jose wasn’t listening to David, however. “The eyes,” he whispered, crossing himself as he kept moving backward. “Look at his _eyes._ ”

With a roll of his own eyes, David motioned radioed for the rest of the team to come to join them. They were going to need more than two people to move this, it was completely solid stone all the way through. Then, because Jose was starting to really freak him out, David turned and looked at the statues face.

It really did look horrifyingly realistic. The expression was one of horror, mouth curled open in a silent scream and eyes blown wide. Before he could ask Jose, what, exactly, he was supposed to be seeing, David found out just what had frightened his partner.

Those eyes, blown wide in terror and made of solid stone _moved to look straight at him._ David screamed and scrambled backward. Tripping, he kept moving until he was next to his praying coworker.

Under his observation, the eyes continued to move, following their every move.

**Author's Note:**

> Holy fuck, y'all. This has turned into a full-blown monster. I was not expecting this when I wrote the first part of this series. I was thinking maybe I'd write a sequel or two and that would be it. Now here I am already planning part four. I have no idea how long this is going to be though I do know where my end goal is for all my characters. 
> 
> Your response has been amazing as well. I never really expected to have some many people responding to this already. I half expected no one to be reading it at all, honestly. Angst has never been my strongest ability when it came to writing so this was pretty much out of the left-field for me. I mean, sure I've tried my hand at it before but that was back in high school and it wasn't my favorite thing in the world. (Also it was kinda bad, I still cringe reading it tbh.)
> 
> I suppose with age, really does come improvement, huh?
> 
> Word of warning, the updating on this isn't going to be nearly as fast as it has been. Spring Break ends Monday and I'll be back to working on classes and going to my actually paying job again. (I took spring break as a health break. Good choice considering the Influenza thing, actually).
> 
> Thanks for all the love!


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